


Tired Oath

by cjjade



Series: Kinktober Flash Fiction Project (2020) [2]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Kinktober 2020, M/M, Minor Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko, Nile is mentioned, Not Beta Read, forgive my mistake on anything catholic related, once again turned into a love story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:36:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26783023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjjade/pseuds/cjjade
Summary: Day 2 of Kinktober; Joe is a college professor worried about his best friend Booker who is going through a messy divorce, thus enters Father Nicolò whose best friend just happens to be one of the best lawyers.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Kinktober Flash Fiction Project (2020) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947481
Comments: 5
Kudos: 172





	Tired Oath

**Author's Note:**

> Flash Fiction is a story that is written & edited with in a time limit. I had three hours to write and edit this, day two and I am regretting doing this. 
> 
> First time writing for this fandom, a little scared lol. Especially since I only had fifteen minutes to edit, so it's rough.

**Prompt: Priest - JoexNicky**

**Time Limit: 3 Hours**

**Tired Oath**

Nicolò Genova was a man of god, he had taken his vows younger than most but not the youngest ever to do so. It was decided when he a toddler that this would be his path. He came from a large catholic family on both sides. It was tradition on his father’s that one male of each generation give their service to the Church. His Uncle Peter, who had been the eldest took this path. Nicky found out later it was because he was gay, and any other would have had him disowned. His Great Uncle Michael was before them, he had been the youngest of nine, having four older brothers. If you traced his family tree you would see never in a generation had not one man not been in the service to the church. 

It was tradition, there was no room for argument. 

He was three when his mother told him he was to be a priest. Like his Great Uncle he was the youngest, his mother giving his father ten children before he graced this world. By the time he was born the eldest of them was just a month away from sixteen, by the time he was three the last of his brothers was becoming a football star. The eldest of his brother was Lucas, he held all the honors. Went off to Oxford when Nicolò was barely two. Richard and William were two years younger than Lucas. Richard went into the military, a tradition on his mother’s side. William like Lucas had academic dreams, both dreamed of being doctors. William would attend Oxford before going off to Yale to study medicine. He wouldn’t return to Europe for almost fifteen years, choose a job in Germany. 

The youngest and last of his brothers, Arthur, was ten years older than Nicolò, at thirteen, he was already getting attention worldwide. Nicolò’s mother decided then it was Nicolò fate to be in the church. His father found him the best tutors. He studied history, languages, and literature. Not one of his siblings envied him, Arthur always felt broken about it. Nicolò never got the chance like them, he never got to experience life or what he was good at. He began to study for priesthood before he could ever read a word.

The only thing he ever had was his friendship with Quynh. 

Now at thirty-five, he stood in the middle of a courtyard. The sun was warm, but there was a chilly breeze in the air that he was grateful for. He had never once thought of a different life for himself. That was until six months ago when Yusuf al-Kaysani walked into his life. The moment those soft brown eyes met his, Nicolò was gone. What made it worse was that he could speak Italian. Nicolò was used to no one understanding him, he could mutter in his native tongue with little to any fear of being understood. But that day Yusuf had greeted him politely in Italian, Nicolò could only smile nodding at his greeting. 

Yusuf or Joe as he’s told everyone to call him was pure light. He had this smile that went to his eyes then to his whole body. Nicolò thought of him like the sun, warm and inviting but get to close and he'll burn to ash. Nicolò was doing his best to remain at a good distance. Joe was a college professor, one of his students found an old journal in their grandparent’s attic. It was written in old Italian, of course Nicolò’s name came up. That was why he was here at this college, he was one of the few who was fluent in ancient Italian, Latin, Hebrew, and Arabic. 

He was just happy to be left alone, until that day. As he started to read the journal, Joe began to talk about another student. Nile Freeman. She was doing a project to highlight the different cultures, an art project. Nicolò was powerless, he had agreed to help with the project before he knew what was happening. Joe was helping to oversee it, and though Nicolò knew he should stay away from temptation he couldn't. His life was to the church, but there was something about Yusuf al-Kaysani. 

“Greetings my friend,” Joe exclaimed brightly, Nicolò smiled softly praying for strength. Joe was dressed in a pair of tight dark washed blue jeans, a burgundy t-shirt that fit him too well with his classic leather jacket. His sunglasses hid his eyes, while the backwards hat hid the curls that Nicolò had never once daydreamed about running his fingers through. “Sorry I am late, Booker was in a mood again today.”

Nicolò smiled, he knew of this Booker. Mostly because of his ongoing divorce. His wife was a member of the church Nicolò was currently at and had been vocal about why she had left. Nicolò did not take sides as he did not know this Booker by anything but rumors. She had sworn he was selfish, that he only thought of himself, that he had broken their vows. Yet when Joe spoke of Booker he spoke of a different man. Though many had of course taken her side, being that she attended church and Booker was not religious.

Nicolò could not help but think of the man Joe spoke of. Of a man that left his county of France, a county he loved for a woman he loved more. Joe had spoken passionately about his dislike for the woman. Nicolò had heard rumors their relationship might be more than just friends. Joe had been enraged months ago at her claim of Booker being unfaithful. He tried to recall Joe's words but he only recalled how Joe blushed deeply realizing the language he was using in front of a priest when he remembered Nicolò was fluent in Arabic.

Nicolò still dreamed about that look. 

“How is your friend,” Nicolò asked gently watching Joe frown deeply, the smile fading from his eyes. “By your expression he is still struggling.”

“Camile wants everything,” Joe sighed falling on the bench, his voice breaking as he slid his glasses off. “Everything he build here, his company, the house he bought, all the cars, everything.” Nicolò frowned falling next to him. “They’re just believing her. She had no proof with her accusations but they all just taking her words as truth.”

“Does he not have his own lawyer,” Nicolò asked confused thinking of what he had heard the women gossiping about. Joe shot him a look.

“He fired the last two because he won’t go to her level,” Joe sighed then looked up quickly. “Not that I want him to of course, but she’s destroying his name, his reputation." Joe let out a grumbled hiss. "He needs to fight but he won't.” Nicolò feared he was going to regret this, but he couldn't not help.

“I have a friend who may be able to help,” Nicolò smiled softly, watching Joe looked at him curious. “Her name is Quynh, she’s a lawyer who specializes in domestic violence and child abuse.” Joe face crinkled up, not seeing the connection. “She’s very good, hasn’t lost a case in five years, and has a high moral code. Best part is she owes me a favor.” It was Nicolò turn to blush. “We grew up together, she went to law school and I went to god.”

“At this point I am desperate for anyone who may help him,” Joe admitted with a laugh. “He doesn’t care anymore but I do.”

XOXO

Nicolò smiled as he stepped out of the shower, he loved Quynh’s shower but most of all he loved sparring with her. Andy on the other hand he usually could do without, but only because to her it was about form and technique. Even with Quynh, there was never at any point anything playful about it. Andy would watch them roll her eyes like she had perfected decades ago as they would start goofing off. Quynh has known him since he was six, her parents moving in next door. She was destined for greatness her father would always say. She had one brother, who was currently in New York doing trails on a project that if goes well could change what they knew about HIV, and how they treat it.

Nicolò slipped on his jogger pants he keeps here, trying not to laugh at how displeased his mother would be in him. Joe had taken straight away to her, and from what Andy told him so did Booker. Quynh had asked Andy to do some searching around on Camile, something was not setting right with Quynh's instincts. Walking out he was drying his hair not thinking about anything other than the fact he was tired. He had taken today off from the church. He was in hiding, told everyone he would not be reachable until tomorrow. He loved his work, he felt privileged to be seeing the ancient text he was seeing. Joe’s student Nile was a breath of fresh air, he loved her project. 

But he was just so tired.

“Nicky,” Quynh greeted as he walked out, he looked up smiling widely, then stopped dead in his tracks.

“Joe,” Nicolò muttered softly at the man who was currently standing wide eyed gazing at him.

“Father Nicolò,” Joe stuttered quickly looking away, Joe hadn’t called him that since their first meeting.

“You’re the priest,” a man who Nicolò was assuming was Booker by his accent. The said man looked at Joe then back at Nicolò smiling. “I’m Booker.”

“Nicolò Genova,” Nicolò greeted extending his hand smiling, his accent thicker than normal.

“Hungry Nicky,” Andy smirked playfully eyes going to Joe then back to him waving a bag he already knew was his. “It’s your favorite.” Joe watched Nicolò glare at her sing song voice, grabbing the bag from her.

Joe watched him move around their place with such ease it was clear he was here on a regular basis. Joe had never thought about Nicolò outside of the projects they worked on together. The one with Nile was coming to an end soon, then he wouldn't see him again. Nile was sad, she loved working with Nicolò. Joe could admit with his whole heart that Nicolò was passionate about everything he did. His knowledge on ancient history was beyond that of anyone else Joe knew. Joe wouldn't lie, he had asked him to read more than one passage just to hear him speak in whatever text was in front of him. They had been spending months creating murals around the neighborhood. Nicolò had a way of getting people to just let Nile do whatever she wanted. After she was done, it was like seeing a rainbow, people finally understood her message.

Joe watched him move over to Quynh who handed him a shirt, Booker eyeing him up and down. Joe smacked his arm, Nicolò was a priest, Booker gave him a wink as he walked towards Andy. Andy who had this sly grin on her own face. Joe watched as Nicolò moved to pull the t-shirt over his head. Joe gulped, like he wasn’t already in trouble now he knew what he looked like under all those layers. His ivory pale skin still damp and rosy from the shower. Quynh had apologized for her appearance, mentioned she was training with a friend and lost track of time. It never occurred to him that friend would be Nicolò. 

Were priest allowed to spar, weren't they supposes to be like non-violent or something. Joe hated his luck. 

Quynh placed his food onto a plate as she motioned for Joe to take a seat across from them. Andy was going over what she had found out about Camile, Joe began to watch Booker’s face. For a moment there the old Booker was back. The flirty sarcastic French man that had got him into too much trouble at their boarding school. Joe's parents always loved Booker though, swore they saw him being something special one day. They were right of course. Booker had a thing for technology, specializing in fraud and security thanks to his years in the military. He was the go to person for anything security based when it came to technology. Built his own company from the ground up, then moved it here. Now he was going to lose it all.

“How did you get these photos,” Booker asked softly, he knew this event, it was over a year ago. “This was from a fundraiser for a law firm I consulted for.” Booker moved them aside to another batch. “This was for a bake sell two years ago with her church.”

“I asked a few people around,” Andy gently told him eyes going to Quynh. “These came in the mail unmarked, the man she’s with is Christopher Harper.”

“I know that name,” Quynh stated looking to Nicolò then back to Andy.

“I don’t know how babe,” Andy sighed going for her paperwork. “Wife divorced him last year after her private investigator got these photos of him with other women.” Andy looked to Booker her face going softer than Nicolò had seen it in a while. “I am sorry one of them was your wife Camile.”

Nicolò felt an anger that he didn’t want to, because he did know Christopher Harper, everyone knew him. He was an energetic and charismatic man who had been a member of his church most of his life. Anyone in this area knew him if they paid attention to the news, he was always on it. Looking down at the photos, at the dozens of women he had been with. A few of them he knew from church, besides Camile there were two other that were in serious relationships. There was no way to see these photos as anything but what they were. 

How else can you take his face under their skirt as they're pressed into a dark corner.

Nicolò met Andy when he and Quynh were thirteen, and she was sixteen. Quynh fell instantly in love with the older girl, but he loved her freedom. She did what she wanted when she wanted, and didn’t allow something like tradition or family to stop her for any reason. Andy had sworn to him she wasn’t going to allow him to give his life to a fairytale. They argued religion, mostly how could someone like him that knew as much as he did about the past, give his life to something as corrupt. Quynh understood though, she too came from a proud family based on tradition. 

But today was one of those days Nicolò wished he would have ran away with her when she offered. 

“He’s the leader of the Traditional Family Initiative,” Nicolò sighed looking to Andy and Booker who looked at him confused. “It’s a religious based organization that started locally about ten years ago. They promote the traditional values of marriage and family life.” Andy hissed in a language Joe didn’t know, rolling her eyes so hard he knew it had to hurt. “He and his wife never got a divorce. Father Marcus just announced they’ll be hosting Couple’s Retreat next month." Andy gave him a disgusted look. "The topic, how to keep a faithful marriage in faithless times.”

“This is why I don’t believe in religion,” Andy snapped as Nicolò looked over to Quynh who was unreadable, then back to Andy--waiting for it to come. “Seriously Nicky how do you wear that costume everyday knowing it’s built on nothing except lies?”

“Andromache,” Quynh hissed putting her hand on Nicolò’s arm.

“No Quynh,” Nicolò muttered standing up unable to look at anyone, Joe felt his heart break at the sound of his weak voice. “She’s right.” Before Andy could say anything else Nicolò was out of the room.

XOXO

Joe had not seen Nicolò in weeks, looking down Joe knew how long, it had been over two months. The project ended, and he had no reason to call. Or none that wouldn't sound like an excuse. Andy and Quynh were as good as Nicolò promised, a week after that meeting at their house Camile stopped. Andy swore to Booker she never said anything to the woman but had heard from Nicolò that Mrs. Harper had. Andy smiled as she stated Nicky said from what he saw it wasn’t a warning, but more of a gloat. In that moment they knew who had sent the photos to Andy. She may not be able to divorce her husband, but she could get a little justice for someone else. 

Camile was leaving the marriage with what Booker decided, which was more than Joe would have given. She didn’t get a penny when it came to his business. Camile’s father stepped in after finding out about her infidelity. Once again knowing Mrs. Harper stepped in as no one knew how he knew. He was all the way in France. Andy and Quynh gave their word no to contact him. Suddenly the contact Booker had kept telling everyone about appeared. Stating that if the marriage was dissolved due to infidelity the unfaithful spouse was awarded nothing. Booker refused that though. He sold the house and the boat she had begged for, giving her half. He let her keep the car he bought her last year signing over the title to her name. Camile’s father hugged him, stating he once again proved to be more of a man than he was. 

“Nicolò,” Joe whispered seeing the man sitting on the wet ground starring off into space. “Are you okay?”

“Just thinking,” Nicolò smiled standing up wiping the mud off his clothing. Joe looked him up and down those priest clothes really did hide his body. “What brings you out here?”

“My place isn’t that far from here,” Joe lied softly smiling, then pointed behind him. “Nile is doing another community project I had a meeting with the building owner to go over the mural plans.”

“She’s going to change this world one block at a time,” Nicolò laughed looking to the rundown building, he had been trying for two years now to help them fix it up. “They’re good people.”

“They speak very highly of you,” Joe admitted watching Nicolò turn bright red.

“How is Booker,” Nicolò asked gently watching Joe eye’s light up.

“Broken,” Joe admitted looking down then back up to Nicolò’s face. “But thanks to your friends he’ll survive.” Joe looked back to where he was sitting then back to his face. “Are you sure you are okay?"

Nicolò wanted to tell him he was okay, he wanted to tell him not to worry but he was tired. He rubbed his face looked up to those brown eyes that held so much of what he didn't have. Nicolò had lost his faith. He looked at men like Christopher Harper, men who used their power and wealth to stay on top. A man who was standing in front of this city as a good husband, as the poster child for what everyone should be. He walked into that church feeling more alone than he had ever in his life. 

Andy moved Quynh here because he was alone, because they were scared for him. Few knew how much Nicolò had hated himself growing up. Quynh had held him more than once as he cried himself to sleep. He had lived his life by the thought he was going to be a priest, so he had to live like one. He was never allowed to date, or have relationships. There was a point his mother tried to forbid him from seeing Quynh but his father overruled her.

Nicolò was tired. 

So tired that he shook his head no, so tired he let Joe lead him away. He had no idea where they were going but he just wanted to go. Joe put him into his car, got in and drove. Nicolò had no idea where they were but Joe led him to a building, a nice building. Soon Nicky was standing in the middle of a loft. There were pictures all around, Joe surrounded by women. Nicolò knew as someone with a lot of sisters what that looked like. It was clear that like Nicolò he was the baby. Nicolò hadn't seen his family in years. Art still called him. 

Art Genova, one of Italy's greatest treasures. He was married now, with three little girls. He video called them every Thursday, his wife always blushing when she answered. Their father angry because not one of his siblings were enforcing the tradition. He only had three nephews, and none of them were going into the church. Joe came back holding a cup of what he assumed was tea. He knew Joe didn't normally drink. Andy had told him that Booker had some stories. 

"Sisters," Nicolò smiled looking at another photo, more recent.

"Yea," Joe laughed turning red again. "You have siblings?" Nicolò turned to look at him, smiling.

"Ten," Nicolò told him laughing as Joe choked on his tea. "Four brothers and six sisters, I'm the baby." Joe look still said he didn't believe him, so Nicolò grabbed his wallet, taking out the only photo he had. "This one is very old, it's been a long time since we were all together."

"Is that why you are sad," Joe asked gently watching Nicolò put his eat down on a coaster. Joe smiled. "You can trust me, I won't tell anyone."

"I don't think I can do this anymore," Nicolò admitted rubbing his eyes, then looked up to Joe. "I came here thinking if I got away, did work I liked, it would be okay." Joe moved to sit next to him. "Then I called Quynh crying, suddenly she's accepting a job here. Andy is opening her business, they're buying a house." Nicolò looked down at the ground then back up. "I am so tired."

"Why did you become a priest," Joe asked curious, Andy and Quynh never answered when he asked.

"I was told when I was three I was to be a priest," Nicolò told him, watching Joe watch him like he was expecting a punch line.

Nicolò laughed, as he told Joe about his family he laughed. Joe had such a reaction to the fact that he had spent his whole life preparing for something that he never wanted. The idea that at three his parents made a life altering decision for him. That blew Joe's mind to the point he didn't know how to speak at first. No wonder Andy had been so vocal on trying to stop him. Joe just sat there watching as Nicolò laughed, watching as he relaxed. It was the first time that Joe had seen him laugh with holding back. Normally there were people around, people watching. 

Joe began to tell him stories of when he was younger. Told him about traveling around the world, about getting lost in London at twelve and being grounded for two month. He told him about his eldest sister's wedding where the groom got him drunk for the first time. He had to avoid his mother until he could shower so she wouldn't smell the mixture of stale vodka and vomit on him the next morning. Nicolò just sat there listening soaking up each tale like they were everything. 

Soon Joe was taking him to the guest bedroom to let him sleep. Nicolò took a shower stepping out wrapped in a towel peeking his head out to walk back to the room Joe ran into him. Both of them just stunned, Joe's hands on his skin. His warm wet skin, the skin that was haunting Joe's very dreams after seeing them all those months ago. His hair was shorter, Andy telling Joe they made him keep it short. Joe wondered what it would look like longer. His grey blue eyes wide, going down to Joe's lips then back up to his eyes.

Joe mentally said screw it, and kissed him. 

Nicolò had never seen the appeal to kissing. Quynh and him had kissed when they were younger catching adults doing it, but it was disgusting. Andy argued that was because he had condemned himself to a life without pleasure. Even back then he couldn't disagree with her. She swore if he ever tried it again with someone he wanted to kiss he might like it, he might like it a lot. Andy always like to think she knew him better than he knew himself. Quynh too. 

He hated they were right. Everything from the roughness of Joe's lips, to the scratch of his beard, to the taste that was what he had been dreaming about. The reality of this was far better than anything that he could have dreamed up. To the way Joe's hands sank into his wet hair, and how he was licking into Nicolò mouth biting at those lips for more. When they pulled apart Joe opened his mouth, Nicolò didn't want to hear an apology. He didn't want Joe to be sorry, he wanted more, so he kissed him again.

From there everything melted away into moments, very good moments. To pushing his own hands into dark silky curls that were just as unruly as the man they belonged to. To the way they kept swallowing each other's moans as Joe pulled him along. To the way his own finger found new skin to touch as they tore Joe's clothes off, neither of caring where they went just they needed more of this. The only light in the room was the moon, and Joe looked like every image of angelic he had ever dreamed up. 

Then feeling his heated skin against cool sheets, purple sheets that with the moonlight made Joe glow. To feeling lips on skin that left tingles, then stings as teeth sank into the tender flesh. To smelling Joe all around him, to hearing their sound mingle together. To flipping them over, he needed to taste Joe in his mouth. He needed to know Joe like Joe now knew him. He wasn't prepared for the whines and moans that came out of his mouth. Wasn't ready for feeling so powerful, so needed as the man who has haunted his dreams begged for more.

Joe tasted like nothing Nicolò had ever tasted in his life. It was musky, it was earthy, it was something that he wanted to taste for the rest of his life. The way he felt in his mouth, it was heavy on his tongue, hard, and Joe made him feel like a god himself. The way Joe's hand pulled at his locks, pulling him back for more kisses, not carrying his cock was just in his mouth. The way Joe screamed his name as Nicolò as able to jerk them both off, never had his name sounded that good. From this moment on he wanted no one else to ever call him Nicolò again. 

That was only for Joe. 

XOXO

Joe woke up first, smiling as his eyes open to see perfect pale ivory skin that was littered with marks. Seeing each mark on his back, shoulder, and neck made Joe want to nibble on him all over again. Afterwards Joe had been a mess about just having sex with a priest, then about taking his virginity. Took Nicolò about an hour, and another blow job to calm him down. Nicolò didn't care, well that was untrue he did. He cared about so much that it was easy to see how he remained a priest for so long. It was clear that Nicolò wanted to do good in this world, he wanted to do right by his family most of all. So he stayed as they wanted him to. But now Nicolò couldn't do that anymore, he could no longer turn a blind eye to his own suffering. 

Rolling out of bed Joe could not help the smile that graced his face, the man that he had fallen for had fallen for him as well. They didn't set out to hurt anyone, just one look and it seemed like they were both hooked on each other. Nicolò had been looking for just as many reasons to stay in contact with Joe as Joe was looking to stay in contact with him. Nicolò still had no idea what he was going to do, but he knew he wasn't meant to be in the church any longer. Andy had been saying it for years, that outfit was just a costume he wore. Nicolò needed to find out who he was, he never got that chance. Art had been pushing for years for him to take a break from the church, always agreed with Andy that he should run. 

Maybe he had been correct.

Nicolò opened his smiling as he stretched, feeling that Joe's side wasn't cold exactly but it wasn't warm either. Joe had forced them into the showering giving him a after sex 101 lesson. Which to no surprise to either of them turned into shower sex. Afterwards he had handed Nicolò a pair of sweats to sleep in, and then they climbed into bed with Joe's arms around him. For the first time in more years than he could remember Nicolò fell right to sleep. Being wrapped in Joe's warmth, with his scent enveloping him, had soothe him more than anything he had ever tried before. 

"Joe," Nicolò yelled then stopped when he came face to face with Andy and Quynh. "Oh." Nicolò mumbled closing his eyes trying not to turn bright red.

"Is this going to be a habit," Booker asked from the kitchen looking him up and down. "Not that I am complaining." Booker hissed seconds later as Joe smacked him, hard, Andy laughed.

"Guess we can call off the search for Nicky," Andy grinned walking closer to him then stopping eyes going wide. Nicolò realized Joe was about to see just how close they all were. "Did you have sex."

"Quynh," Nicolò whined looking at his oldest friend, who was smiling. "I am not answering that questions" Andy shrieked then squealed wrapping her arms around him tightly knowing that meant yes.

"Love," Quynh said shooting an apologetic look to Joe, who was stunned speechless. "I think you are embarrassing Joe."

"What about me," Nicolò demanded pushing her away, but grinning as Andy cupped his face. "I'm leaving the church."

"How good are you," Booker asked looking at Joe who turned bright red.

"Booker," Andy warned looking towards Joe, Joe saw a soft look in her eyes he has never expected to see in someone like Andy. "We'll leave so you two can bask in...." Andy waved her hand around, Nicolò laughed shaking his head. "Until tonight." Andy voice was stern, she wanted until Nicolò stood next to Joe. "Dinner at our place 7 sharp, do not be late, drinks not optional."

"I am sorry," Quynh whispered to Joe softly patting his arm but her eyes said differently. "She's been waiting a long time for this moment." Soon Andy and Quynh were leaving pulling Booker with them with promises of bottomless mimosas.

"Yes they're always like this," Nicolò told him walking off to the kitchen.

Joe laughed, well at least they seemed to keep Booker in line, and Nicolò loved them. How bad could one dinner be?

The End 


End file.
